Operation: Get Into Buffy's Pants
by Alex Wert
Summary: Her relationship with Kennedy is over. Now Willow is on a mission. This is a not at all serious romp documenting Willow's not so brilliant schemes to, well, you probably get the idea from the title. Silly, irreverent, it went over quite well at SFA.
1. Chapter 1

"Maybe things will still work out between you and Kenny," said Buffy. Poor, naive Buffy. 

Willow receeded into the cushions of the couch with Kleenexes stuffed up her nose, eyes puffy from the sobfest she'd been celebrating ever since she'd arrived at Buffy's Rome apartment fresh from her spectacular breakup with Kennedy.

"It's over, Buffy. That relationship has sunk." Willow removed the Kleenex from her nostrils. Buffy was no doubt relieved that she was finally getting those things out of her nose, but no, Willow just blew her nose and replaced the rolled up tissue. She was certainly a disgusting, puffy, red, mucousy sight to behold.

"Usually when I see something as nasty looking as you look now, I slay it."

"Gee thanks."

"Sorry, Will. Just trying to lighten the mood. Replacement Xander, except with better fashion sense. Here. Let me clean you up a bit." Buffy gently dabbed at Willow's eyes, cheeks, and mouth, cleaning away the various blotches of unmentionable slime from her face with a wad of Kleenex. She even pulled the gooey Kleenex rolls from Willow's nose and tossed them away. After spending eight years getting covered in various demon oozes, what's a little snot between friends?

"Really, thanks," said Willow. "I'm so glad you're here to take care of me after my enormous, colossal, amazing, fantastic, glorious, gigantic, gargantuan, immense, awe inspiring, flaming wreck of breakup fight."

"It couldn't have been as bad as that."

"See this melted blob of plastic?" which Willow conveniently retrieved from her purse - it was a twisted, grapefruit sized chunk of black plastic slag. "It used to be our TV. And the worst part is that it was a thermoset."

"Poor TV. What's a thermoset?"

Willow ignored her. "I give her a great year, no, the best year of my life, with love, devotion, plenty of fancy gifts in a beautiful paradise, all I got was a broken heart and a splotchy looking tan. Damn freckles. DAMN YOU FRECKLES!!!" Willow was about to magically zap her freckles away but Buffy stopped her. "Yeah, thanks Buff. That would have probably hurt quite a bit. Umm... I have rage issues."

"No problem. As long as you leave my TV intact. And speaking of TV, you watch," Buffy gave her the remote to her new plasma set, "and I'll go and get us some ice cream. Chocolate fudge with chocolate chips and we'll pour chocolate syrup on it. Then we can go shopping and buy wider pants."

"Thanks. How'd I ever get a friend like you?"

Buffy paused a bit. "I think I saved your life. Not really sure though. I can't remember that far back. Now stay put. They have great ice cream in this country. It's not just about pizza and sucking at wars, you know. I'll be back in a jiff." With that, Buffy kissed Willow on the forehead (the only place on her body without mucous) and left for the store.

Willow watched her friend's cute behind as she walked out the door. Buffy was always so nice to her. In many ways, Buffy was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Then it dawned on her. She was in love with Buffy. And it wasn't just because she cared for her so much, but also, that ass set her groin on fire. From this moment on, Willow resolved herself to a mission. A mission to get into Buffy's pants.

And heterosexuality be damned.


	2. Chapter 2

Xander had recently arrived from Africa and was sporting a chocolately shade of a tan. This only made Willow more pissed. Xander got to like George Hamilton while she looked like a dalmatian. Dalmatian is a very sexy look. Not.

"You mean you're not shocked, Xander? That suddenly I'm interested in Buffy?"

Xander wasted no time answering: "I'm actually shocked it took you this long."

Willow, with her great intelligence and higher education, replied with, "What? Huh?"

"Come on, Wills, everyone falls for Buffster. I could go through the list but that would take too long of a time, and I don't think either of us want to sit here all day when there are all these fancy-pants museums and churches to look at."

"Yeah, like you care about museums and churches."

"I care about finishing this conversation quickly, before you get all mopey."

"I'm not going to get mopey!"

"Is this the New Willow we're talking about? Because the old Willow usually, by this point, has written poetry about unrequited love and sits at home on her bed watching cartoons and feeling sorry for herself, wondering when the object of her desires will ever notice her while never actually doing anything about it at all."

Willow gaped in shock. "Was that supposed to be a pep-talk, mister?!"

"Maybe. Did it work?"

"No. But that's not me anymore, and it hasn't been for some time. I'll have you know that this Willow is a real go-getter. If there's something she wants, then she takes it."

"Why didn't you tell her last night, then?"

"Duh. I looked like a sack of pus."

"Then why are you talking to me right now instead of Buffy?"

"Because I don't have a clue what I'm doing. I need your help. In case you haven't noticed, I've never really done the picking up thing or the asking out thing before, especially with a friend like Buffy. I need your advice."

Xander shrugged. "I'm not sure why you're coming to me for help. I got shot down in the twelfth episode. Observe:"

* * *

Xander: Um... You know, Buffy, uh, Spring Fling is a... time for students to gather and... Oh, God! (takes a breath) Buffy, I want you to go to the dance with me. You and me, on a date. 

Buffy: (speechless) I-I don't know what to say.

Xander: Well, you're not laughing. So that's a good start. Buffy, I like you. A lot. And I know we're friends, and we've had experiences... We've fought some blood-sucking fiends, and that's all been a good time. But I want more. I wanna dance with you.

Buffy: Xander, you're one of my best friends. You and Willow...

Xander: Well, Willow's not looking to date you. Or if she is, she's playing it pretty close to the chest. (laughs nervously)

Buffy: I don't want to spoil the friendship that we have.

Xander: Well, I don't want to spoil it either. But that's not the point, is it? You either feel a thing or you don't.

Buffy: (looks down a moment, then back up) I don't. Xander, I'm, I'm sorry. I-I just don't think of you that way.

* * *

"Hey, now _that's_ good foreshadowing. A few years early, too." 

That earned him an eye-roll from Willow. "Well, thanks for the trip down memory lane. But that doesn't help me one bit."

"Well, you could try going for a sexier look. Change it up a bit, force her to see a different Willow than the one she's used to. It usually works on me, like when your evil twin showed up. That was hot, if not a little creepy."

"That's a good idea, but you're forgetting one thing. Neither of us no a damned thing about fashion, and two: we both hate shopping. Yes I realize that I miscounted two, but I went to college. I use my calculator for addition and subtraction." Willow gazed down at where Xander was now clasping his hands over his groin. She raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, thinking of VampWillow. That was good stuff."

"_Boys_," Willow shook her head in disgust.


	3. Chapter 3

"Dawn!" Willow yelled at the younger Summers who was passing by the guest room door with breakfast burrito. Her craptacular taste in food hadn't improved. "We're going shopping. I'm buying."

Dawn shrieked and leapt into Willow's arms. "Willow, I love you!" she yelled, before bounding off down the hall to change clothes.

Dammit. Wrong one.

* * *

"I'm not sure showing this much skin is good with my complexion," Willow complained while scowling at the slutty number that Dawn had picked out for her. "I mean, can't I just wear a nice blouse and some suitpants?" 

"Willow, you're a walking fashion disaster. _Put that on_!" said the younger Summers, and pushed her into the changeroom. Using her ass. Dawn had no idea how infuriating this was for Willow. "If you want to pick up, you'll need to dress the part. Sexy is good. Skanky is better. So get your bad self in gear and jump on your rebound girl."

_Dammit, she's not my rebound girl_, thought Willow. She could excuse Dawn's perky, misguided enthusiasm though, since she hadn't told her who she was going after. If she had, chances are she'd be dead by now, magic or no. Willow grumbled various nasty things to herself while she changed into the top of the matching skirt combo. She didn't want to call it a shirt. It was more of a hankie. The bottom was two hankies. Damn Italian fashion designers. They want everyone to catch a cold.

Willow threw back the curtain, expecting shock from Dawn. Instead all she got was a grin. "You look like a hooker. It's great," she said.

"I think these heels are giving me shin splints," Willow griped.

"It's perfect that way. Pay for that and come on. You need to buy me a new purse."

"Hold your horses, I'm moving as fast as I can." Willow shuffled after her in her four inch stilettos. As she reached the checkout she felt something apply a squeeze to her bottom. "Hey!" she swatted at the young Italian man who had just pinched her ass. "Buzz off!" she yelled at him. "Bastard," she mumbled more to herself.

Dawn just grinned at her more. "That means he thinks your hot. It's a compliment. That sort of behavior is normal here. You should be thrilled - he pinched you instead of me! You're really smoking!"

"You sure we can't sue him? It's sexual harrassment is what it is. Hey! You stop that now!" Willow yelled at another man who had just given her a good squeeze. "I'm warning you. Any man who touches me is going to pay. How would you like it if men kept pinching your bum, huh mister?" she yelled. "_Vir tactus vos_!"

Suddenly every man in the immediate vicinity began chasing after the offending perv and began pinching him on the ass.

"_Hey! Che cazzo_?" he yelled, and ran in vain from the crowd. "_Andate tutti a 'fanculo_!"

Dawn only shook her head. "You're no fun."

"What? He pinched me."


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey Buffy. How was your day?"

"Great Wills," Buffy said, just now glancing up from her magazine. "I went - oh my God! What are you wearing and why?"

"I wanted to update my look. Dawnie picked it out for me."

Buffy fumed. "I'll have to have a talk with Dawnie. She wasn't like this back in America." Buffy promptly got up and left to go yell at Dawn.

That left Willow to slump dejectedly on the freshly vacated couch. That did not go at all the way she had planned. She conjured up some ice packs for her rapidly purpling shins.

* * *

"I'm glad you took those shoes off," Buffy said after she returned from yelling at Dawn for whoring up Willow. "You're a giant with those heels. It was hurting my neck." 

"Nah, you're just short," said Willow, then covered her mouth as she realized that she had just pissed off Buffy with the short comment. How did she realize? Buffy was glaring daggers at her and was turning quite red and balling up her hands into fists. She had started to get sensitive about her lack of height on the bus out of Sunnydale when she realized that most of the fifteen year old girls where at least half a head taller than she was. The bus wasn't in very roadworthy shape when they finally got back to civilization. _Darn. What a crappy time to start with the Xanderisms. C'mon, brain, rescue me here_. "Um... Kidding? You're not short. I'm a lumberjack. And you're tall. You're like Yao Ming." _Lousy brain_. She fidgetted, cursing her lack of tact. "I'm going to shut up now, yes sir, shutting up from this moment... now."

"Thank God for that. I'll let the insult slide. This time. But now you've got to explain that outfit you're wearing. Let me just restate: Wha_-huh?_"

Willow looked down at her cleavage exposing, midriff baring, thigh showing new clothes. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Well, actually it seemed like a horrifying idea at the time (but she went along with Dawnie anyway - foolish her), and now it was just... disturbing.

"I hope this isn't just a rebound thing, Wills, where you're planning on trolling for skanks at the clubs. That's just not healthy. You could get diseased."

"No trolling," Willow grumbled. Definitely no skanks (though some might have a different opinion). "I'm guessing you're not a fan of the outfit."

"I don't even think Faith would wear that. If you had a particular girl in mind, Wills, I hope she didn't see you in that. She'd probably have a heart attack and your chances would make a snowball's in Hell look good."

'I suck' started seeming like a pretty good mantra at this point. "Too late."

"Well, that's sucky. You want me to get you some more ice cream?"

"Nah. I'm, uh, I'm going to return the outfit. Buff, want to go shopping with me? I'm buying."

"No thanks, Will. I've still got lots of clothes and stuff left over from the Immortal. You have fun though."

_Poopy_. That worked on Dawn.


	5. Chapter 5

Xander met her at the mall. "Given up on the slutwear?" he asked.

"Yup. Got it here, in the bag," she held up the bag to show him.

"That's not much of a bag."

"It's not much of a dress."

"They've given me larger bags for a toothbrush at the drug store."

"Toothbrush was probably bigger."

"Damn. Too bad you're returning it. I wanted to see that."

"Sure you would, Xan-man," said Faith as she stealthily appeared behind them. "He's always thinking with his penis."

"What's she doing here?!" Willow shouted.

"Awww... It sounds like you don't want me here. I'm hurt," Faith replied, with mock puppy-dog eyes. "Let's see the dress," she said - _after_ she roughly swiped the bag from Willow's hands. She's polite that way. "Nice. Where's the rest of it? B have a freak when she saw you in this?"

Inwardly, Willow groaned. She was still a wee bit personally horrified that she was in love with Buffy herself, and she sure as hell didn't want this - any of this - getting out while it was in such a hopelessly mired stage. "_Xander_! You told _her!_" Yes, she made it sound like it wasn't bad enough that he had told somebody, but that it had to be Faith of all people. "I thought I could trust you, my oldest and dearest friend, to keep a secret." Men. They're all bastards.

"Willow, before you evicerate me I have to explain that there's method to my madness - this time." Willow tried to snatch the bag back from Faith but Faith's reflexes were too fast - even when she was devoting most of her effort to holding the flimsy top out in front of her body and whistling catcalls at herself. She's weird that way. "When I thought of your attempts to seduce Buffy, I instantly thought of Faith. Then, after I took a very long, very cold shower, I gave her a call. She's the perfect person to teach you the fine art of the pick up. Who can teach you more about how to act sexy, how to dress sexy, how to be sexy, than the master herself." He presented Faith in the fine, armwaving fashion of Barker's Beauties. Faith took a bow. It made Willow's stomach churn.

"That's great, Xander, it really is. But don't you think you should have asked me ahead of time whether I wanted to be embarrased to death?"

"Honestly it didn't cross my mind."

"Relax, Red," a widely smiling Faith comforted in a not at all comforting way. "By this time next week you'll have to beat her off with a stick, or you'll have to have to use a pole to defend yourself from her advances. Either way I offer one-hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed," she said with a wink.

"Faith, sometimes you make me sick. I mean it. Violently, physically ill."

"Really?" said Xander. "You make me feel something else entirely."

"Awww... Thanks, Xan-man. But I already knew that." Faith patted his bottom playfully.

"Yeah, well..." he said. "Can I see the bag for a sec?" He held Willow's shopping bag in front of himself. He has to cover up a lot, being surrounded daily with attractive, athletic, nubile young women, while not actually getting any.

Willow rolled her eyes at him. She was considering telling them to get lost but, when faced with Xander's pleading eyes and Faith's Cheshire Cat grin, she caved. "Fine. Faith, you can help me be sexier."

"You'll never regret this, Red."

"I'm sure I will," Willow mumbled to herself. Of course, Faith heard (and gave her the finger).

"First rule," she said, "Don't do that in front of Buffy. Or anyone else you know except guys. We can all hear you." Faith turned to Xander. "Geez, I thought she was the smart one."

"Sometimes she forgets that she is," he replied. "By the way, you can have your bag back now. I'm good."

Faith smirked at him. "That's not how I remember it." Sometimes Willow was sure Faith was still evil.

Xander crossed his arms, incensed. "I'll have you know," he replied, with a haughty tone of voice, "That my skills have improved by may orders of magnitude since then, thank you very much."

"Really? I'd like to give that a try, then."

"Guys?" said Willow, "back to my problem, if you please?"

"Well, then, your wish is my command, m'lady." Xander was talking to Faith.

Faith actually giggled at that. "You're so funny, Xander." And she meant it.

He turned on the charm. "You like to come back to my hotel? We can be as funny... or as serious... as you want me to be."

"Umm... Xander? Faith? Remember the reason why we're here in the first place? My problem? Guys?"

"When you put it that way, how can I refuse?" flirted Faith.

"_Xander_!" Willow yelled.

Xander's eyes went wild. Was she at last getting through to him? "Oh. I finally got the stick thing. Can I have the bag back?"

"You won't need that bag after I'm through with you."

"Oh, I like the sound of that. Let's go." Faith took his outstretched arm, and he lead her away from the mall.

Willow stood dumbfounded as the two lovebirds just left. "But! Guys! You're supposed to be helping me! Come back! Faith! Unhand Xander!" But she didn't. She's slutty that way.

"Wait! I need my bag back!" They were already out of earshot (they had been out of earshot not three feet away). She slumped. "Everyone sucks."


	6. Chapter 6

"Why are you interested in B?" asked Faith when she met up with Willow the next day (after several hours of acrobatic sex with Xander, which of course Willow wanted to hear absolutely, positively nothing about).

Willow put those scary thoughts out of her mind and filled it instead with sugary-sweet romantic thoughts of Buffy. She went off into a dreamy place as she recited, "She's sweet and kind. She's not bitchy, self centered or controlling like Kennedy..."

"Umm... You do realize we're talking about Buffy, right?"

"Her presence just brightens up the mood of any room..."

"Most of us can't stand her anymore."

"She has the most beautiful body I've ever seen..."

"B really needs to eat more. She's like so scrawny and boney now. It'd be like humping a skeleton, which wouldn't be a stretch for her but I'm not sure if you'd like it."

"She's such a loving woman. Being with her just makes me feel good, and I can see us together forever..."

"She destroys every man she gets her hands onto. And usually sooner rather than later. You're better off without her."

"You just want her all to yourself, bitch." Faith had thought that Willow wasn't listening. Obviously she was wrong.

"Willow! I'm not gay!"

"Yeah, right. What about you making all those goo-goo eyes at her all through high school? Don't think I was blind to all the passes you made at her. The 'hungry and horny' thing? All that grunting. And the constant innudendos. You practically fawning all over her every day. Not just signs, I'm talking massive billboards and neon lights. You may have thought none of us noticed, but I was never that naive. You'll just sabotage me to get rid of your competition!"

"Chill, Red. I admit there may have been a bit of hero worship on my part back in the day, but those were more innocent times, and it's really a non-starter for me now. So calm down, get your head out of your ass, and we'll try to hook you up."

Willow wanted to polymorph her into a frog, but in the end thought better of it.

After all, frogs are scary.

* * *

"Are you sure all this stuff will work? It's really sketchy and kinda dumb sounding," Willow complained after two hours of intense instruction from Faith. 

"It's the best material in the business. Good luck, though. She's so uptight it's a wonder she's not Amish."

"Faith, that's not nice."

"Yeah right, like any Amish are going to read this on the net and write a nasty e-mail to complain."

"Still... it's not nice. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Since when have I ever been, Red?"

"Touche."

* * *

_You already know about batting the eyelashes and the hair thing. Those are for beginners. I'll start you off on the intermediate course._

Willow breathed heavily as she nervously opened the door to Buffy's apartment. This was it. For all the marbles. Focus, Willow, focus. You can float a pencil. You can destroy the world. You can get one girl interested in you, dammit.

_Body language speaks louder than words. Show off the tip of your tongue while talking to her. Sit up straight, pop out those jugs. And spreat those legs a bit when you're sitting._

"Hi Buffy. I'm back. What did you do today," she said flicking her tongue out between her teeth as she spoke. It sounded like a bad impression of Sylvester the cat. She felt ridiculous - but not as much as when she slinkily sat herself down on the easy chair with her back ramrod straight, breasts protruding like a pair of missiles, and her legs awkwardly apart. It was a hideously uncomfortable position.

Far from being aroused, Buffy crinkled her forehead at her. "What's up with the funny pose? Is something wrong with your back? Y'know, I found this great chiropractor here... Emilio - he does magic, well not actual magic, that's your field, but chiropractic magic. Let me just rummage around to find..." Buffy wandered back into her bedroom, and Willow gratefully slouched. Years of sitting hunched over a computer is not good for your sexiness.

_Use sexually loaded language and embedded commands in your speech._

Buffy came back with Emilio's card and looked confused when Willow just waved it off.

"My back is fine," Willow said. "Some might call it _limber_. But enough about my back. It's a very hot day outside. _I'm so hot_. I'd be willing to say that _you're definitely hot_ too."

"Um, yeah, Will. There's only the small air conditioner in here but we've been looking for a new one, but it's a little difficult since there's not that much free room in here."

"I'm sure that you'll be able to _create an opening_ for it. How was patrol? Did you get a good slay?"

"Meh. I was hoping for something tough, but it was just a couple of the usual vamps. Disappointing."

"I really understand that. Sometimes what you get is a challenge, and others you can _do in your sleep. With me_, in my line of work it's the same thing. The magic I mean. Sometimes, _when I do it, it's just right_. Others, something kinky and surprising happens that you just can't expect. Though a lot of the time I find that you _enjoy it_ much more than something safe." _Did I really just say that? I sound like Parker._

"Yeah. That's right. You really get me, Will. Though... you're speaking in hyperbole. That's a long way to get to a point, even for you."

_Eeep. She's on to me_, Willow thought. Change of tactics time...

_Casual touching during a friendly conversation causes people to remember the conversation more fondly after the fact. Touch her! Hold her hand, rub her arm, her elbow, her back, her shoulders, her hair, her face. TOUCH HER!!!_

"Hold on a sec, Buff. You've got an eyelash on your cheek," Willow hastily said, before tentatively resting her fingers on the side of Buffy's head and using her thumb to gently wipe away the nonexistant eyelash. "There, isn't that better?"

"Umm. Okay. Thanks, Will." Buffy fidgetted under her hand. "Y'know what? Now that you mention it, I'm going to go take a look at air conditioning units now. Don't want you melting away on us. Pizza's in the fridge. If I'm away for a while and Dawn insists on going out tonight, tell her I said no."

"Buffy, why don't you stay? C'mon, we'll have the pizza and watch that Piratey movie you like. Or we could gossip and braid each others' hair. Or... stuff..."

Aww crap, she's leaving. And Willow forgot to hike up her skirt to show off more skin.

"What's gotten into you, Willow? You've not usually this weird. I hope this isn't some abandonment issue thing where you get all clingy."

"Um... no, no clingy."

"Well, good then. Why don't you try that on Xander? He might be free for the girlie night in tonight."

Willow didn't want to try it on Xander. He already had Faith, dammit.

As Buffy left, Willow held the door open for her, her arm snaking protectively around Buffy's body. If Buffy noticed, she didn't show. And then she was gone, and Willow was alone once again.

But at least this time she had pizza.


	7. Chapter 7

Willow sighed, grabbing herself a Moretti from the fridge. She didn't like it, but then again she wasn't in the mood for happy right at the moment. Nothing goes with a bad mood like a generic, bland beer that you hate. Sorry Italian brewers.

"But you don't even like beer," Xander pointed out as she plunked herself gracelessly down on the couch. "We've had some experiences, remember? Beer bad?"

Willow struggled with the cap to no avail, then just blasted it off with a burst of magic. "Beer good," she said, downing half the bottle in one go.

"Umm... Will? Did your eyes go black there for a second?"

"I even tried seducing her again when she came back with the new air conditioner. I used Faith's 'A' material and not so much as a batted eyelash from her." Yeah, Willow was ignoring him entirely. Isn't it fun when you have a conversation entirely with yourself? "All I got was," insert passable Buffy impression here, "_Hey Wills! Check out this A/C unit I got. Pretty sweet, huh? 2.8 kilowatts and it only cost 200 Euros. Umm, what's a kilowatt?_ I may as well be trying to pick up the Pope."

"It _is_ a really nice air conditioner-"

"I mean, how can she be so incredibly blind that she doesn't see me whoring myself out at her? After the 'dress, what dress?' fiasco and this seduction thing aimed DIRECTLY AT HER you think she might notice. I'm beginning to suspect that she might be a little dim."

"Uh... Did you just say you wanted to pick up the Pope?" He succeeded in getting himself hit upside the head. "Fine, I'll ask a sensible question. Where is she now?"

"Oh, she's taking Dawn for a lecture on tasteful style."

"Do we know anyone who has tasteful style?"

"No. But that's never stopped us before. Obviously the hookerwear experiment was a disaster. It ranks right up there with what I normally wear." She finished off the rest of her beer with a forlorn look. "Yes, I suck. Any questions?"

"Just one: Do you have any more of that pizza? I could really go for some pizza right now. I'm starved. All that sex makes me famished."

This caused Willow to sulk. "I envy you just finding someone who's so eager to jump into the sack."

"And not just _into_ the sack, but also while already there. I heartily suggest you try it. Though it is starting to chafe."

"Too much information."

"Yeah, but she'll probably appreciate the advertisement..." Willow looked horrified. "I kid. Just trying to get a rise out of you and, apparently, succeeding. I think it's going really well. I never expected to suddenly fall into an actual real relationship with Faith. I don't think she expected it either. But I guess after her long term four months with Wood she's learned to settle down a bit."

"She tried to kill you."

"Everyone's tried to kill me. Most of them aren't nice enough to do me first."

"Sometimes I crave for you to not talk. You don't really want me to let her know any of what you've been saying when I see her for my post-mortem tomorrow afternoon, do you? She's going to be so thrilled that I've screwed up, yet again." Willow screamed into her hands. "I'm never going to get Buffy."

"How long have you been trying?"

"Three days."

"Then you're not exactly behind schedule, are you?"

"I feel like I'm getting nowhere, though."

"Well," Xander said, "There's the certain problem that you haven't actually told her that you're interested in her, and there's that other certain problem, which some people may say is more important and will be more difficult to overcome, in that she's straight." Willow's suddenly dark eyes burrowed into him. "Maybe, and I realize I'm putting myself out on a limb here, _maybe_ you might be packing the wrong equipment for the job."

"Yeah, great. What am I supposed to do about that?"

Xander shrugged. "You could turn yourself into a man."

"Xander, I'm going to say this in the nicest possible terms because you're my best friend since forever, but FUCK OFF!"


	8. Chapter 8

Author Notes: In which I plagiarize myself. The second half of this is a parody of the second half of my other story, The Terminal or Leaving the Old Death, part two "It's nice to be back in Rome". **

* * *

**

13:40 Hours CEST. Grand Hotel Palatino, Rome. Mission debriefing of Willow Rosenberg.

"I even tried that stretching out in front of her thing like you said."

Faith listened as Willow broke down her failed attempts at seducing Buffy, asking questions to clarify anything that could be ambiguous. "This one?" asked Faith, as she liesurely elongated her spine and bent over tantilizingly. "Did you remember to sigh while doing it?"

"Yes. I did it exactly like this." Willow repeated the long, slow, catlike movement, taking the time to pause in the middle to emit a perfect, girlish, phone-sex sigh.

"Damn, that's hot. She must be blind. I don't know how she keeps resisting you."

"You think I'm hot?"

Faith had a hard time believing Willow's insecurity. It's supposedly a common girly problem, but Faith wouldn't know - she is, always has been, and always will be da bomb. "Dammit, Red, I _know_ you're hot. I mean look at you! You've got a killer body, an angelic face, and a wicked sexy 'tude. In fact, I'd like to get a piece of that right now."

"Please don't say things like that to me! It's driving me nuts!" Willow yelped nervously. "I haven't had sex in three months - yeah, Kenny and I were going through some real fun times at the end there. I know you're only trying to be supportive, but I just can't take being teased like that right now."

Faith approached Willow slowly and grasped her gently by the shoulders. "Who said I was teasing?" Willow gulped.

"I thought you weren't gay."

"I'm not gay. I'm just horny."

* * *

**18:30 Hours CEST. Grand Hotel Palatino, Rome. Xander POV. **

Xander knocked on the door. God, his knees were shaking so hard. How was it so uncomplicated to have sex with this woman, yet so frightening to have a relationship?

He remembered back to his last failed relationship, his fears, his mistakes. Wondered if he was ready after his loss. He wondered if she would appear any different to his eye now that they were starting something, and there was some emotion invested in them. But Willow had supported him, told him to go for it, and that was good enough to ease any of his misgivings.

The door swung open and she was there, in front of him, wrapped in a blanket and looking a little dopey, and sweaty from the warm Roman air, and still just beautiful.

"Xander!" she said, glossy eyes suddenly wide open. "My God, I forgot you were coming over. And I'm kinda naked!"

He tried to look meek. "Yeah, looks good on you. Though I was thinking that if you would take a shower and put on some nice clothes I'd take you out for dinner and a night on the town."

Staring into her eye for what was really the first time, everything just felt _right_. Still, the nagging thought haunted him. "Unless you're not ready for a relationship right now, in which case I'll show myself out." Not that he'd actually stepped in yet.

"No, Robin is far enough in the past."

Xander's heart leapt for joy! He and Faith could be together the way he had hoped for! Just as he was about to open his mouth to sweep Faith off her feet with some romantic exposition, another voice pierced through the quiet late afternoon.

"Faith! Come back to bed!"

Faith flushed deep red - more so than before. She looked torn with muddled thought for a second or two (but only a second or two). "Um... Bye!"

And she shut the door in his face.

"Huh."

What was _that_? Faith and Willow? He wanted to search his memory for any indication of sexual tension between the two. He wanted to barge in there and ask them what the hell was going on. He wanted to fly into a violent rage at the unfairness that was his life. He wanted get very drunk. Instead he just stood there thinking. And the thought was 'gah?!'

Suddenly the door swung open again. "What was I thinking?" an apologetic Faith moaned. "You come too." She roughly clutched him around his hips and manhandled him into the room.

**_SCORE!!!_**


	9. Chapter 9

Many tactics had been tried and failed. Countless attempts had been made and botched. Willow was at her wit's end and the dregs of her resources, without resorting to magic, that is - and that would be cheating and so not right. She'd hold off on that for one more week. So now she fell back on her last hope, her only untapped resource whose aid could help to win Buffy's love.

"Xander briefed me on your objective and I've done some poking around for you, but I don't see what's so special about these pants," stated Andrew, holding up a pair of small sized, red leather pants in front of Willow. "I mean, I don't even think you could fit into these. They're awfully tight."

Willow felt a migraine coming on. Sometimes he was just unfathomably dense. She massaged her temples gingerly, groaning, "Andrew..."

"Kidding. You were so quick to believe that. The respect you have for me is enormous." He tossed the unimportant pants to the side. "Now come over here to the Big Board as I lay out for you the details of what I like to call 'Operation: Get Into Buffy's Pants'."

"That's such a ridiculous name."

"Sorry, I couldn't think of anything better. I wanted to come up with something like 'Overlord' or 'Barbarossa' that's punchy or cool, but it's not exactly an awe-inspiring endeavor we're dealing with, no offense." Willow found that offensive. She though the idea of her and Buffy together was awe-inspiring.

"I'm still not entirely sure why you're doing this," Andrew continued, not noticing Willow's upset mood. "I mean, you just had a night of passion with Faith _and Xander_, and from what I hear they'd be happy to have you as a permanent member of their _menage a trois_, yet you still covet another woman."

"It's complicated," was all that she was willing to tell him. It wasn't, really; she just didn't want to tell him. Then he'd start getting all sappy and romance-novelly and she'd have to reconsider not killing him.

Andrew nodded in a sage manner, humming and hawing over her lack of answer. "I understand," he said, though he did not. "Come. Let me impart my wisdom upon you," he said, and she rolled her eyes. "Anthropological research has demonstrated that the availability of sustinance has always been a driving factor for selection of mates," he said, pointing to a sketch of what appeared to be a pork chop on the Big Board. "Metaphysically speaking, individuals are attracted to members of their species who are providers. The presense of dopamine in foods rich in protein is thought to increase excitement levels and emotional arousal." A chemical formula was displayed on the board. He'd gotten it wrong, but it really didn't add anything to the presentation, so Willow ignored him. The sociology diagram was much worse - and a little lewd. It made her inwardly shudder. "Though physiological differences exist," Andrew continued, "satisfaction of the stomach's needs has been anecdotally linked to success in seducing the male of the species. A careful analysis of this information yields a likely plan of attack."

"Do you mean we went through all this rigmarole and hyperbole just to say 'feed her'?"

Now it was Andrew's turn to be offended. "Definitely not. Minute details elevate this operation beyond merely feeding. The intricate interplay between social interaction and... well, yes. I just hadn't had the oportunity to use the Big Board recently."

"Yeah. Do you think cooking for her will be enough? I mean, it seems kinda chincy."

"Little grasshopper, you fail because you believe you will fail. To succeed you must believe you will succeed."

"Uh... Thanks..."


	10. Chapter 10

Willow's meal was almost ready. She had forgone the pork chops since, well, Jewish-ish...? Damn, they couldn't make that any more confusing? But she had got a great spread with marinaded vegetables, conchiglie with homemade sauce, pan-fried trout, salad, and fresh baked bread. She was so nervous and jumpy. Why? Because she was finally committed to opening her heart to Buffy. This meal was it. She would summon up all her nerve, ply her with food and alcohol (and herself for that matter) and tell her. And to make it perfectly clear she had gotten some candles out and dimmed the lights, using the best cloth napkins and everything. The fish was bubbling away in it's oil when the sound of Buffy entering the apartment caused her to jump. She had just turned the fish, so it would be a few more minutes before it was ready. Willow took a deep breath and went to greet her destiny.

"Buffy. Welcome home."

"Uh... Thanks, Wills... What's with the festive decor? And the fancy cooking," Buffy took in a deep breath. "Smells good."

"Oh, I really wanted to do something to thank you for all that you've done for me since I crashed on your doorstep, teary eyed with suitcases and melted tv. I hope you like fish." Nervousness premeated Willow's bloodstream. Some sort of chemical imbalance thing. Oh, she definitely wouldn't be able to make it to the end of dinner like she had planned. She'd either explode or let this one slide through her fingers.

"Actually, it's more than that," Willow said, sure her face was turning red, which must be _so_ alluring. "You've been so great to me... not just the past few days, but always."

Buffy smiled. "Aww... that's sweet, Will." She sniffed the air. "Are we having blackened trout?"

"And, well, I've been thinking for a while now," yeah, three days, but really there's no need to elaborate on that, "that I really like you, and that we go so well together." A concerned look crossed Buffy's brow, and Willow was mortified. Was it all going to belly-up so soon? Best to push on quickly. "And these last few days with you here has made me realize-"

"Do you smell something?"

"Please, Buffy. This is important and I have to say it. These last few days have been great. They made me remember what I was missing when I was away from you in Brazil. I realize now that-"

"Will, I think something's burning-"

"Just let me finish," shouted Willow, as she grasphed the much stronger woman by the arm. "Buffy I-"

Buffy's eyes went wide. "Oh my God! The kitchen's on fire!" She broke Willow's grip and dashed off to the smouldering room. Moments (and one misguided attempt at putting the fire out) later, Buffy emerged from the blazing inferno. "Quick! Call 9-1-1. Umm... Does 9-1-1 work in this country?" No, it does not. "What the hell is the number for the fire department in this friggin' country?" she screamed waving the phone dangerously through the air and running around the apartment in a state of hysteria.

Willow sighed and dialed 1-1-5. This was going to be a long night.


	11. Chapter 11

The fire department had come and gone. Suave and macho Italian firefighters had prevented the blaze from gutting Buffy's apartment, though the kitchen and some of the living room was ruined. The suave and macho firefighters had then flirted and sweet-talked them. The insanely stereotypically charismatic men who had tried to seduce her did nothing for Willow. The insanely stereotypically charismatic men who tried to seduce Buffy met with some limited success in charming her, and great success in increasing Willow's jealousy.

Currently Willow is sitting in a bar, the _Buca di Fagacini_, in the little known _Parco del Sud_ region of Rome, drowning her sorrows in stiff drinks and fatty foods.

"You must really be depressed," stated Xander, trying to play the sympathetic friend, "You haven't even touched your _soffi di formaggio_." He really just wanted some of her _soffi di formaggio_, since he had neglected to order earlier and the service was unbearably slow here. But the waitresses were hot. Which may have been why he was there at all. It was definitely why Willow was there.

"I've blown it completely," she wailed. "I mean, I try to cook her a nice dinner and tell her how I want her, but all I end up doing is burning the place."

"We've done worse stuff than burn her apartment down. She'll get over it."

"See this melted blob of plastic?" which Willow conveniently retrieved from her purse - it was a twisted, grapefruit sized chunk of biege plastic slag. "It used to be Buffy's new air conditioner. But it matches well with my tv," she said, setting the melted blob of black plastic slag down next to it.

"Why do you keep carrying those around with you."

"I like to have props for my complaining."

"You're the Carrot Top of pain."

"I thought that _was_ Carrot Top." She poured another scotch down her gullet. "All I want is for Buffy to love me, but everything just goes horribly wrong all the time. It's like there's some mean-spirited, evil bastard controlling my fate, making sure that the worst things constantly happen, conspiring to make sure we never get together. I just want to kiss her so bad..."

"_Dude, you're hot for a chick?_" exclaimed the boy sitting on the opposite side of Xander. He was obviously excited.

Willow rubbed her bleary eyes and peered at the intruder. "Xander, who is this?"

Xander leaned back and presented him to Willow. "Willow, this is Stan. He's American from... where was it? Colorado? He and his friends are here sightseeing or something. I invited him to sit here since I thought it would be nice to listen to people without accents for a while. That's Kyle back there," he pointed to Jewish looking guy opposite Stan. "I don't know where the others went. If you don't want them to be here I can-"

"No, that's okay," Willow said, unconvincingly. "They're welcome to wallow in my misery. Though you look awfully young to be sitting in a bar."

"Yeah, we get that a lot," said Kyle. "People keep telling me I could pass for a nine year old. It's really frustrating."

"Don't tell me about frustrating," replied Willow. "Buy me a bottle and I'll tell you. There's sordid girl on girl action to keep you interested." You bet Stan and Kyle ponied up the cash.

While Willow was regaling the boys with tales of love, loss, and a little smut, Xander noticed Buffy wander into the bar. He excused himself and went to intercept her before she reached the table.

"Buff. How are you?"

She let out a big breath of air. "Tired, Xand. There's a bunch of damage but it's mostly liveable. I'll be eating takeout for a while. Nothing wrong with that. I wish I hadn't got rid of my old air conditioner, though. That could've come in handy now."

"I know. Willow showed me."

"She's really got to stop carrying those around with her. It's kinda weird."

"Don't go too hard on her, Buff. She feels worse about this than you could possibly realize."

"It's already forgotten. She was just trying to do a nice thing for me, and really most of the damage was my fault. I just want to talk to her and let her know that I'm not angry with her. She's gone through a lot recently, and I want her to know that no matter what happens, or whatever hair-brained scheme-turned-disaster she pulls next, I'm always going to be there for her."

"That's so great, Buffy. She'll be relieved to hear that. C'mon. She's over there talking to those two short American guys." Xander lead her to the table, then tapped a startled Willow on the shoulder.

"Hi Willow," said Buffy.

Willow's eyes went big. She opened her mouth to speak - then _blach!_ she projectile vomitted all over Buffy.

"Ew!" and Buffy ran off.

"Dude, this is pretty fucked up right here," said Stan.

"You know, I learned something today..."


	12. Chapter 12

Author Notes: Just a clarification before we begin. Dawn, while knowing that Willow has the hotts for someone, does not know that Willow is lusting after Buffy. Also, if anyone other than Howard didn't pick up on the South Park/Stan-vomits-on-Wendy vs. Willow-vomits-on-Buffy parallel, you might want to have your brain looked at.

* * *

There was an unexpected side benefit of smelting Buffy's air conditioner: no clothes! Or at least, very few clothes. It was quite the heatwave in Rome, with the mercury topping out at 102 degrees, and so they sat in the non-gutted part of the apartment in their skimpy underwear, glistening flesh stuck fast to the leather couches and chairs. For Willow the view would have been perfect except that Dawn was there.

Semi-naked Dawn made her feel icky. Or possibly perverted. She'll always be a kid, no matter how tall she gets.

What's the female version of NAMBLA?

Pushing those thoughts aside, Buffy was sitting there sprawled out on the sofa, wearing the most indecent little frilly thing up top, and the matching indecent little frilly thing down below, which was much more indecent down there. Damn, girl, you could see everything. She was fanning herself demurely with a fashion magazine, gazing with disinterest at the tv (this tv was still intact - for now).

The view wasn't good for Willow's heart-rate and she was generating a lot of additional heat, which just added to the glistening sweat covering Buffy's perfect, tanned body, and _Oh my God!_ she was going to have to do something or else she was going to explode!

"I want ice cream," she said. "You want ice cream? I could sure go for some ice cream." Willow peeled herself off the easy chair with a none too flattering slurping noise and quickly ran to the kitchen as Dawn screamed for ice cream. Her own red panties were greatly darkened with perspiration - at least she hoped that's what it was.

_This must be the way boys feel all the time_, she thought to herself as she got out three tubs of the premium stuff from the freezer. As much as she loved ice cream, it wasn't to eat. It was to put between her legs.

"Chunky Monkey," she said, tossing one of the tubs to Dawn. "Or the closest Italian approximation. Um... _Pezzo-Come la Scimmia_?" But Dawn was already inhaling it, ignoring her completely. Willow was getting used to that by now. "Here you go, Buff," in the buff, almost. Willow sat down with the frozen tub tucked discretely between her legs as she plunged in with the spoon (the ice cream, you sickos).

"When are we going to get a new air conditioner?" asked Dawn, between breaths of ice cream.

"When they start repairing the kitchen," replied Buffy, holding the ice cream to her head. "That'll be next Tuesday. Yeah, this hasn't been the best week ever."

"It could've be worse," said Dawn. "Willow could've thrown up on you - oh wait! She _did_."

"Thanks, really. I've already said 'I'm sorry' a hundred times. I was really drunk. What more can I do?"

"You can always buy us things," said Buffy.

"Like a new air conditioner," added Dawn. The insurance was supposed to be handling that, though.

"I forgive you, though," said Buffy, sweetly, her hand coming to rest gently on Willow's shoulder. Just that little touch was enough - it sent fire racing through her already smouldering body - and she couldn't stop herself any longer.

"Uh, I'm going to phone Xander... to see what he's up to... So I'll go to my bedroom... to use the phone." That's right: she needed to get new underwear.

The cream in question was no longer iced.


	13. Chapter 13

The gang had gotten together at Andrew's place to watch movies. They would normally have done this in Buffy's place but, as it was severely scorched, Andrew immediately jumped at the chance to show everyone his new home decor. It wasn't just an innocent get together, oh no it was not. Xander had picked out a movie especially to aid in Willow's cause. That meant lesbian content. Which he was happy with too. Anyway... about the movie: it's crap. But it was crap on purpose so that Willow would have free rein to talk through it without anyone complaining. They're sneaky people, Willow and Xander. "You know what I hate about TV and movies?" asked, no, _demanded_ Willow during a lesbian make out scene taking place in a library.

"No, we don't. Please tell us," deadpanned Andrew, who really didn't want to hear what Willow had to say, but _really_ didn't want to watch any more of the movie either.

"No matter what," she said, "any girl can seduce any other girl in practically no time flat. Doesn't even matter if she's straight as an arrow or a nun or the seductress has no redeeming qualities. Just 'bang!' Instant girl/girl make out. I can tell you from experience, it isn't that easy. Even hot as I am," bragged Willow to Andrew's annoyance, and everyone else's disbelief. Not that she wasn't hot - she was - but that she was bragging, and that was so unlike shy, mousy Willow. But Xander gave her a wink to show that he was in on the ploy. That is, it was _probably_ a wink. It was difficult to tell with Xander. "There are still some girls who you can't click with, at least not right away. And don't get me started with the straight ones."

Faith stole a slow, lovelorn glance in Buffy's direction. "I hear ya," she said, but no one was paying attention.

"I'd like to point out that all these things are written by men and we're horny, sick perverts who take every opportunity to see girl on girl action because we like lesbians," explained Xander.

"You're disgusting!" shouted Dawn (who was surprised that she was even allowed to watch the movie in the first place).

Buffy said, "I think all the women here will attest to that." The collected members of Girl Power Inc. nodded their agreement. Then they scowled at the two men of Pigs Ltd. in attendance, who slunk back into their chosen shelters.

"We're outnumbered, Xander," Andrew whispered. "I hope you don't mind if I change sides, just for safety's sake."

Meanwhile, Dawn continued from Willow's rant about the implausibilities of the movie. It was annoying but infinitely better than actually watching the movie. "...And please. Why would anyone want to have sex with _that_?" she gestured at the bare-breasted manly woman currently on screen. "I know she's not really as butch as they make her out to be but damn. That other girl is certifiably hot. She could have anyone she wants and she's doing the little, androgynous creep? Creep doesn't even have a charming personality," though it was hard to tell that anyone had a personality at all with the bad acting. "If I were her I'd hold out for something better; a girl with real boobs with good hair who smiles once in a while. Um... I mean...a real man." She quickly corrected after intercepting Buffy's stern glare.

"Nice save, pip-squeak."

"If they tried this with guys it wouldn't work. It would either be funny in a gross way, or no one would buy it," Xander explained. "Take how these things start, for example. Observe: Ooh... I'm a little drunk. Let's play Twister." Xander staggered over Andrew. "Oops. Did I slip? I'm sorry about rubbing up against your bottom, Andrew."

"That's okay," Andrew replied, shakily. "I wouldn't mind if you did it again."

They moved _very_ close to each other. "This is an awkward position. What if I accidentally brushed my lips against yours?" said Xander, with a mock innocent tone. "Oh no! I couldn't have just done that! But it felt so good."

"Oh kiss me, Xander!" yelled Andrew. The two collapsed into a pile of theatrical stage moans, with pantomimed groping and cries of "oh yes, Xander" and "give it to me!" before Xander sprung back to his heels.

"See, funny," he said.

"Yeah. No one would buy that," Andrew, of the shifty eyes and out of breath panting, added.

Xander leaned back in his reclined position against the side of the couch, oblivious to Andrew's discomfort (or was it desperation). "So if we do it, it's socially unacceptable. But say if it was Faith and Buffy-"

"What?" Buffy sneered at him.

Xander's eyes glazed over for a second or two as his mouth hung open in deep contemplation. "Nothing," he said carefully. "Could you throw me a pillow?"

So he's in intensive care...


	14. Chapter 14

They were having a celebration. Not the celebration that Willow had wanted, which would be the 'congratulations on getting your groove thing on with Buffy' celebration, but the other one, which was the 'congratulations on getting your kitchen replaced with working air conditioning after Willow burned it down' celebration. The don't make cards for that.

So most people just brought booze.

And lasagna.

So they 'ooh'ed and 'ahh'ed at the marvels of the new kitchen, standing about the central island, eating the lasagna and drinking the booze.

Willow alternated from eyeing Buffy longingly, scowling at Xander (she needed some alone time to have it out with him), feeling ashamed at the destruction she'd recently caused, and faking cheerfulness to the assembled gang. During a portion of that last part, she realized that there was no Andrew there.

"Where'd Andrew run off to?" she asked.

Xander shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since last night. His apartment is deserted. It's either really important business, or they're having a Star Trek convention."

The phone rang, suddenly. "Buffy! Phone!" yelled Dawn, despite the fact that they were both right next to the damned thing.

"You are such a brat," said Buffy as she picked up the handset. "How old are you, twelve?"

"I did that until I was sixteen," replied Xander, expecting to be ridiculed by those assembled. Instead, he found himself being dragged into the guestroom by a clearly agitated Willow. "I take it we're not in here for a quickie," he said, observing her less than sultry demeanor. "What can I do for ya?"

"What the hell kind of plan was that?" she hissed at him. This was not a good sign. She _dare_ criticize movie night? Well, yes, she did dare. "Was it just an opportunity for you to humiliate Andrew? That was very mean of you by the way. I should kick your tushy for that, mister, except I thought it was funny too, but it still wasn't nice. The only thing we really got out of that whole debacle was the informal announcement of Dawnie's experimentation phase-"

"Which I didn't plan on, so don't blame that on-"

"This isn't about them!" Willow interupted. "It's about me! My life fell apart. I'm craving my best friend and the last few days since I got here have been pure torment."

"I've had a good week."

"You spent last night in the hospital."

"Yeah, but Faith was there taking care of me, nurse's costume and everything," he reminiced. "Good times... though I am still peeing blood."

"Serves you right. The point is that, if anything, I've managed to alienate Buffy through all these cockamamie schemes we've come up with. So: no more cockamamie schemes. Tell Faith to keep all of her plans to herself. From now on I'm going to do this the old fashioned way."

The relief was plastered thickly on Xander's face. "Thank God," he said, all the weight lifted instantaneously from his shoulders. The scheming and the painful innuendo at last behind them. "You're finally going to just tell Buff how you feel about her."

"No... I'm going to use a spell on her. I've narrowed it down to three options, and I need you to run around the seedier parts of the city tomorrow to find the underground occult shops and find ingredients."

Xander gave up hoping. "Will, this is a bad, nay, very bad idea. Possibly the worst idea you've ever had. This ranks right up there with my worst ideas of all time. You don't want to stoop to my level. Bad things always happen. May I remind you of angry mob of women? Or sing 'till you spontaneously combust? Or Great American Road Trip to Oxnard, which had nothing to do with magic but I think is necessary to demonstrate the horribleness of your idea."

"But Xander-"

"Stupid. As. Me."

Willow's face fell. "You're right. Foolish plan. But what do I do now? I'm out of ideas."

"Well... you coul-"

"Willow!" yelled Buffy as she burst through the door. "Pack your bags. That was Giles. He needs us to go to England for a mission. What're you guys talking about?"

"We're tal-" Xander started, and was elbowed in the ribs. "_Aah_... kidneys!"

"Nothing important," Willow smiled innocently. "Pack bags? Mostly still packed. Good to go right away."

Buffy's eyes narrowed at her unusual bout of violence, but if she suspected anything unseemly she didn't say anything about it. "Alright. Fine. Plane leaves in three hours. You can take the window seat. I hope this trip helps get your mind off your troubles," she said as she unwittingly send Willow into a heated frenzy by grasping her by the shoulder, gaving her a sweet smile, and turning to pack her own luggage.

Forget her troubles? Three hours on a cramped plane next to Buffy? Not a chance.


	15. Chapter 15

Six and a half hours later they landed at Heathrow, Willow none the better for the experience. Screaming babies, snarky flight attendants, being next to an oblivious Buffy and surrounded by eavesdropping ears preventing the cessation of said obliviousness; what wasn't there to enjoy?

"Did you have a good flight, Willow?" Giles asked when he met them at the terminal.

Does Mile High Club count if you just masturbate in the toilet? No? Then I had a crappy flight. "The flight was great. They were showing Mr. Bean."

"Mmmm, yes," Giles responded, not looking up from his cardboard cuppa. "Rowan Atkinson is a fine comedian, though I always have prefered him in Blackadder. We'll wait for Buffy to return from the ladies' room then we'll get underway.

And they got away in style, Giles having procured a bulletproof white limo somehow for Council use. "Recent events have proven that our enemies have finally started to embrace technology," he explained, as the three of them rode in posh style down the M25.

"Would this be the bomb that blew up the old Council building or are we talking new new events?" asked Buffy, stretching out liesurely on the wide bench seat. Did she have to do that? It wasn't fair that those suggestive motions had been fruitless on Buffy, but were driving Willow nuts.

"A little of both, I'm afraid," stated Giles. "We'll speak more on this once we reach the headquarters building. Indeed, this is part of the reason why I have asked you here in the first place. While any opportunity to renew old acquaintances is enjoyable, the social call will have to wait, unfortunately."

Did they know just how miserable she was? When you're feeling something that strongly, it really shows on your face. But they were pretty much ignoring her right then. The bastards.

"Drop us off at the back door, if you please, Jeeves," instructed Giles as the limo decended from the motorway to the busy streets of the London outskirts. Soon enough they were deposited outside a grand, stately building and Willow felt the magical defenses deep inside her body, icy chills shuddering her bones. She also noted the multitude of security cameras and the high spear-point topped wrought iron electrified fence. "There are also pressure sensors scattered throughout the lawn, an invisible wall encircling the building halfway between the fence and shrubberies, guard dogs, an anti-sapper screen underground, a robotic Richard Simmons." They stared at him. "I'm joking about that last one, of course."

Giles led them to an underground conference room where the three of them sat down at a large meeting table. Giles punched a few buttons in front of his seat and a Powerpoint presentation blinked to life. "This is the wizard Ellis," the screen showed an unassuming skinny man in a suit with fluffy '70s style hair. "For some time we have known him as a mage of some power, but over the past few months he has gathered a force of demonic and human mercenaries to cause civil strife in the British Isles. We believe that he hopes to use the resulting public hysteria to infiltrate several important organizations and as a distraction to purloin certain objects of power with which he can increase his ability. Currently he is marshalling his forces at this location," the picture changed to a schematic map of a hill near Birmingham just outside of the small town of Lichfield. I need our two best people to neutralize this force. Any questions?"

"What kind of a name for a wizard is Ellis, anyway?" asked Buffy.

"It's Ellis's name. Michael Ellis is his full name. He's been quite the adventure tracking down. Many times over the past month we had thought to have him located only to discover that we had in fact accosted an altogether different man. It's quite embarrasing, to tell the truth."

"That's somewhat ironic," Willow said. "So what's the plan? Who's going in?"

"The cave mouth and surrounding area are regularly patrolled, so we will have more success with as small a team as possible. That is why you and Buffy will be the ones to infiltrate Ellis' base of operations. You will go at nightfall. We won't be sending any other slayers."

Willow's heart rate picked up. A dangerous mission, in close quarters, in the dark, in the romantic English countryside, alone, with Buffy. This could be just the thing to finally have her relationship jump the roadblock. She started to fantasize about a similar situation to the one that led to Xander/Cordy dangersex. Ooh! She just thought of something. She could let herself get injured - not badly - but enough so that Buffy would want to take care of her. Or better yet, what if Buffy got injured! Then she would have to let her best friend Willow take care of her, and that could lead to all sorts of sexy nursing situations and maybe (with some luck) the Florence Nightingale Effect... This could be great. Just the two of them against the evil.

"So," Giles continued, "you will proceed from the south, evading patrols as you go. You and Buffy and Andrew."

**_DAMMIT!!!!!!!!_**


	16. Chapter 16

Willow's globe of invisibility spell had worked perfectly long enough for the three of them to sneak past the guards at the outside perimeter (human mercenaries armed with submachine guns) and the guards at the cavemouth (zombies, not armed with anything but carrying somebody's arm - possibly as a snack - mmmmm... arm...). Once inside though, Willow felt the spell starting to fade. Soon they would be visible for all to see and she would prefer to rest for a while before casting again, just in case she needed more power for the fight ahead of them. She led Buffy and Andrew to a sheltered corner away from the torches of the beaten path, then erected a sound damping field (a much simpler spell) for them to discuss strategy.

"So far this hasn't been so tough," Willow said. "I was expecting more guards and a security system or something. I don't even see any electric lights."

Buffy craned her neck. Her long, slender, creamy skinned, delicious neck. Willow looked somewhere else (or else inappropriate things might happen). "I hear a generator. Sounds like one of those emergency diesel thingies," she revealed.

Willow couldn't hear anything. "Wow. That's good Slayer hearing." The wheels started turning in her head. She then went into shock as she remembered that over the past little while in Rome she had been muttering things to herself - things about Buffy - that she now realized may not have been as private as she had thought. "Umm... so... you heard anything else interesting?"

Buffy pondered for a bit. "There's about a dozen vampires at the end of the hall," Willow's eyes were coaxing for how she knew that (yeah, that's exactly what they were doing; not staring at her lips at all) so Buffy explained. "Human shuffling noises and talking but no heartbeats. Andrew, on the other hand, has a heartrate of 160 beats per minute and he's about to explode. Calm down over there."

"Sorry. Haven't been in any real fighting action since, you know, the big boom."

"I hope you remembered to go before we left."

"Yes, thank God."

"Why did Giles want you here in the first place? No offense, but commando missions aren't exactly your thing."

"Because I have special knowledge about what we're up against?" Andrew stated, or was that asked? It's hard to tell with the inflection going up at the end of the sentence like that. But he calmed himself down and proved himself useful. "The diesel generator is a Perkins 2800 that was stolen from a construction yard in Camden three weeks ago. It only produces 542 kilowatt minutes of energy and is limited to running the computer system and Ellis' personal amenities," he recited from memory, straining his brain for the details. "That includes a laser intruder detector system for the inner sanctum, which I can deactivate without setting off any alarms if we can find the emitter and receiver of where we want to cross. I also know that we will be facing stiffer competition the closer we get. They recently made a large purchase of guns from the Fabrique Nationale firearms company and none of the guards we've seen so far have been carrying them."

"What kind of guns?"

"Assault rifles mostly. Some light machine guns and general purpose machine guns."

"Dammit. You think someone would have thought to tell me that before we charged in here without bulletproof vests."

"Anything you could wear that would stop these bullets would be pretty bulky. With your speed, you're probably better off without."

Now that the bullets and the danger were real, the whole getting injured and Florence Nightingale syndrome idea didn't seem so sane. "How did they get this stuff anyway?" she asked.

"A glamour to make the company salespeople think they were making a purchase for the Irish special forces. You've worked similar mojo before. Apparently this guy is at least as powerful as you were before well, you know. By the way, I'm really thankful that you haven't flayed me."

"_Yet_," mumbled Willow under her breath. Buffy giggled. Yup, she heard. Andrew hadn't. What did that mean? Willow's mind raced with the possibilities, and thus wandered away from the task at hand.

"That's enough rest, guys," said a still smirking Buffy. "Wills, kindly invisible us, and Andrew, get your electronics gear ready. We're going in."

Nobody moved. "Uh, Buff? We're already inside."

"Well that makes it more convenient then. What the hell do I look like, a rocket scientist? Just go!"


	17. Chapter 17

"We're going in."

Nobody moved. "Uh, Buff? We're already inside."

"Well that makes it more convenient then. What the hell do I look like, a rocket scientist? Just go!"

As promised, deeper in the cave they came upon a number of vampires patrolling in front of a heavy door. They hid behind a boulder.

"Does that woman have a flamethrower?" Willow asked. Andrew handed her a set of binoculars from his backpack. It was a flamerthrower - and it didn't have a safety. "Take it easy guys. I've got this one," she said. Willow centered her mind on the trigger and gave a little mental push. A split second later the two vampires to the flamethrower's left spontaneously combusted and moments later most of the rest caught on fire. How ironic.

"You flicked the switch! That was just like Spaceballs!" squealed Andrew. "You are _soooo_ cool."

"Ummm... Spaceballs? Cool?" pondered Buffy. "Never mind. Gotta fight now," she said, vaulting over the boulder, sword blade flashing orange in the torchlight. Within seconds the remaining vampires were dust and ash. "Someone should complain to the flamethrower company. Someone could get hurt with that thing."

The quick and flamey demise of the vampire guards gave Andrew a hassle-free opportunity to disable the security system, which he completed successfully in very little time. Buffy and Willow looked at him like he had grown another head. Andrew? Useful? "Who are you and what have you done with Andrew?"

"Hey, I can be useful and competent. I've done lots of great things before. I have skills. I have experience. I'm courageous... I'm... I... Fuck you all."

"Well, looks like you've finally grown a pair. We're proud of you," said Buffy. She led them through the dark passage to the inner sanctum. They turned the corner and ran headlong into something. Something with nasty, sharp, pointy teeth.

"Run away!" yelled Andrew in pure terror. So much for growing a pair. Buffy and Willow followed in a more dignified manner, but they found themselves hunkered down behind cover as a platoon of mercineries joined the beast and began to open fire with automatic weapons.

"FN MAG. Very high quality gun. It's Belgian," explained Andrew, as he checked his underwear.

"I prefer the chocolate," replied Buffy. "So what do we do against so many guys with so many guns?"

"How about that fireball thing you almost killed us with?" supplied Andrew, who was thankfully still mostly dry.

"Ummm... okay... Some bad memories there. Just give me a moment to focus myself..." Willow stated nervously. She wasn't at all comfortable with the request, one step away as it was from darkness and world ending destruction and spawned from her most painful personal tragedy. She took a deep breath. "Okay... Focus. Yeah, focus..." She closed her eyes and tried to put her spiralling mind at peace. Slowly her primal thoughts began subsiding and she felt her control start to coalesce into a vibrant aura around her.

"Don't worry, Will. I'm here for you," said Buffy at exactly the wrong time. _Then she put her hand on Willow's shoulder!_ Willow's control pretty much went into the crapper, her perfectly centered mind centering instead on just where else Buffy could put that hand.

The fireball erupted forth from Willow's body and smashed into the rock wall behind them, showering them in molten slag.

"What the fuck?! What happened?"

"I - I just lost it there. I'm sorry, I'm not comfortable with attack spells like that. Still reeling a bit from the homicidal phase. I can do you a nice protection spell. Protection from missiles or something like that. Stop the bullets."

"Willow, you're acting all D&D right now. That is _sooooo_ cool!" exclaimed a lovestruck Andrew. "Marry me?" Bless you, Andrew. That's one person in this group who's attracted to Willow from this assignment - even if it is for extremely nerdly reasons.

"Quiet down, lovebirds. Will, can you do the spell? Yes? Good." Buffy steeled herself for her assault. "Ready?" Willow nodded. "Attack!"


	18. Chapter 18

"Attack!"

The three small goblins summoned by Andrew were torn to shreds by the hail of bullets thundering through the air, but the fast moving projectiles only bounced off Buffy like so many rubber bands flung from the fingers of an annoying child. Or Xander.

Within seconds the mercenaries were all suitibly concussed and unconscious. The pointy toothed demon was taken care of by a well-timed grenade. Their quest could continue. They hurried down the corridor, knowing for sure now that all the baddies would be alerted to their presence.

Buffy broke the silence as they jogged. "How come we had a no-go with the fireball spell, Wills? You've been so good at fires recently."

"Ha, ha," grumbled Willow.

"Why couldn't we be fighting a home appliance?"

"Inner sanctum, 30 feet ahead," announced Andrew. After making sure the entrance was devoid of traps, Buffy kicked the door down and they barged in.

Surrounded by computers and weapons, Michael Ellis was an unassuming sight to behold. A moderately tall, thin man in a cheap suit, he wore a laughable toupee that belied his great power. Accompanying the arch-mage was a violent looking Polgara demon and a heavily muscled, heavily armed man.

The heavily armed man spoke up first. "Shall I open fire, call in my troops, or disembowel these intruders with my bare hands, sir," he said in a thick Scottish accent.

"If your troops were the heavily armed guys down the hall, they won't be coming," replied an obviously very smug Buffy. The mercenary leader's face fell into a scowl.

At last Ellis spoke. "Do not concern yourself with these miscreants, Jimmy," he addressed the man in a weasly, upper class twit-like voice. "I shall handle them, and then we can get back to our planning. Now my young friends, which would you prefer: fireballs, lightning bolts, suffocation, petrification, madness, freezing ice, burning acid, deadly poison, crushing weight, piercing needles, slashing blades, or being polymorphed into a squirrel?"

"What do you mean? An Eastern Gray Squirrel or a European Red Squirrel?" asked Andrew.

"What? I don't know that."

Willow rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter what kind of squirrel it is. We've come to end your scheming once and for all."

"Once and for all? Isn't that a little clichéd?" asked Buffy.

"Shhhhhutup," whispered Willow. "Trying to be imposing here."

"Tyring to be imposing? You want imposing? Hey Ellis!" Buffy shouted. "I'm Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is Willow Rosenburg, the witch who empowered the entire Slayer line and has the power to destroy the world. We're going to kick your ass."

"Ahem!"

"Oh, and that's Andrew. Despite that, we're going to still kick your ass."

Ellis was suitably impressed. "The Willow Rosenburg? I've looked forward to this for a long time. For too long my magic skills have gone untested. I've been challenged time and again by poseurs who thought they were better than they were, and who now reside on this earth as ash, rock, and the occasional squirrel. Oh, to face a true master of the arcane..." Ellis smiled. "I have a proposition. You, my dear, versus me, in a one-on-one magic battle. No interference from your friends. No interference from my guardians. If I win, then you may die, but I will disavow my plans and allow you, should you survive, and your friends to leave safely. If you win, then my forces will capitulate peacefully. What do you say?"

Willow never hesitated. "I accept your challenge."

"Don't do it Will, it could be a trap."

"It's okay Buffy. I know what I'm doing."

The two masters of the arcane faced off against each other in the centre of the cavern encircled by spectators, human and not. Andrew found himself next to Jimmy, the mercenary captain. "You sound just like Sean Connery," he squealed. "What do you think of Daniel Craig?"

Jimmy snarled. "I'll kill the bastard." (Note: written before Casino Royale premiered and the subsequent Daniel Craig love-fest from the critics).

Over in the 'arena' Ellis and Willow exchanged banter. "You know, I was not being entirely fair at the beginning of this contest," admitted the devious Ellis. "While you had been fighting your way through my compound I have been raising my own personal anti-magical defenses."

Willow smiled sweetly at him. "That's okay. They won't do you any good."

"So confident for such a sweet, young thing. I half wonder whether the tales of your exploits are authentic or just Watcher's Council propaganda."

"Awwww... the Council loves me. Tell you what: I'll be extra honorable and give you first shot. My treat."

Now it was Ellis' turn to smile. "You are too kind, m'lady. Prepare yourself." His features went stone-cold, and his eyes burned with hatred and fire. Behind them, Buffy fidgetted in nervous worry. The Polgara demon cleaned its ears out with its skewer, and Andrew and Jimmy continued to badmouth the sixth Bond.

From the walls of the cavern erupted great arcs of lightning, writhing around the bodies and equipment and plunging with unfathomable ferocity into Willow's small form. Blinding blue light twisted in bands around her body, the ground shook under the onslaught of violence and all viewers cringed with the tremors. Aside from her hair sticking up a bit from the static electricity, nothing much happened to Willow.

"Hey, that wasn't bad." She grinned. "My turn."

A visibly disheartened Michael Ellis steeled himself for Willow's countermagic. He closed his eyes and concentrated hard, feeling out with his mind for the first signs of her spellcasting.

Willow calmed herself. She brought into focus all of her extensive magical energies into an aura of purity, shimmering gold above her skin, ready to unleash all of her ability.

Then she kicked him in the nuts.

The threat was at an end.


	19. Chapter 19

Andrew had _We Are The Champions_ blaring on the radio on the entire drive back. Again and again and again and again and again... It was enough to make Willow insane. Again. And again and again. She closed her eyes. Just tried to concentrate on Buffy. Block out the sound.

Again and again and again.

Was it really that long of a drive?

_Oh wait. I **can** block out sound!_ Willow put a cone of silence spell around her head. Ah, relief at last, and she floated off into her own happy daydreams... (Daydreams not suitable for younger viewers).

Buffy shook her shoulder agitatedly. Willow looked at her and could tell she was mildly agitated, like she had been trying to get her attention for a while. Oh right. Buffy had probably been talking for a while (I guess Willow's cone of silence worked better than the one on 'Get Smart'). She dispelled the spell.

"... haven't been listening to a word I'm saying. I swear, you're just like a guy sometimes."

"And is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Willow asked, before she realized what exactly she was saying. Though even after she thought about it, she still wasn't quite sure where her subconscious was taking this train of thought, and was pretty sure there was going to be a derailment at some point.

"Bad thing." Buffy replied, not apparently reading any deeper meaning.

"Are you sure?" Willow responded with a more suggestive voice than usual. _Ah. There's the derailment._

Buffy just scowled and furrowed her brows. Andrew sung along with Freddy Mercury.

"What's gotten into you, Willow? I understand the bad breakup thing. I mean, no one has had worse breakups than me..." _You got that right_. "...and I thought I could just give you time and support and we'd be okay again. But you've been acting strangely, even for a Scooby, with the pyromania and the weird clinginess and the devil may care attitude." Buffy lowered her voice to a whisper, gently grasping Willow's suddenly clammy hands. "What's wrong, Wills? You can tell me. I'm always here for you."

Was this it? Was this finally going to be the moment? Willow never pictured anything important happening this way, with Buffy being worried about sudden weirdness and Andrew in the front seat singing to Queen. Willow opened her mouth but couldn't think of what the words... What words to say? Usually it was just a stream of babble that occasionally, maybe, sometimes got to the point, but she wanted this to be different. Better. More eloquent.

She swallowed, and started "Buffy, I -"

"We're here!" yelled Andrew, completely ignoring the importance of the moment, himself being far too caught up in the thrill of victory and the celebration of his own first personal success to remember his part in _Operation: Get Into Buffy's Pants_, which he himself had named. "Hey, I feel like dumping Gatorade on somebody. You girls up for that? No? Alright let's go inside. Hey Jeeves? You up for a Gatorading? Also no?" He got out of the limo and slammed the door, humming Queen as he went.

"He's an exciteable runt, isn't he?"

"I hope you said runt instead of something else that sort of rhymes with that."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear you say that."

The two young women sat in awkward silence for a few moments, the opportunity not lost, but made uncomfortable by the interuption, and the new radio-free quiet.

"Well, where to start..." Willow said.

"Take your time."

Willow took a deep breath. "Well... I -"

Giles pulled open the door excitedly. "Willow! You must tell me how you defeated Michael Ellis so easily! Come! To the war room for debriefing!" He grabbed her by the arm and led her out of the limo.

"Wasn't quite the debriefing I was hoping for," she grumbled.


	20. Chapter 20

"I was so worried about you, Willow," gulped Buffy, as they recapped their mission for Giles. "I mean, you flubbed the fireball spell earlier, but you still had the courage or what was it... insanity to face down this Harry Potter guy one on one. I was terrified that you might get hurt."

"You were the only one apparently. No one else seemed to notice that there was this big gigantic magic battle about to happen," scoffed Willow. "This yahoo here," she said, pointing at Andrew, "Just talked about James Bond the entire time."

"Hey! Daniel Craig is no Timothy Dalton!"

Giles cleaned his glasses. "Children, please. If you can get back to the issue at hand. Willow, can you please explain to me which spells you used to defeat Ellis' magic defenses. He was well known in Council circles as a very good defensive spellcaster. Especially with Buffy's revelation of your apparent failing earlier in the mission."

"Well... I didn't use any spell. He didn't have any physical protection, so I just gave him one quick knee in the happy sacks; he dropped like anyone else."

"Indeed. Well, I guess that is all. Pity, I was expecting something a bit more cathartic. But it's difficult to argue with success - though I have done so before."

With that near-useless exchange the meeting broke up and they all went their seperate ways into the new Council Headquarters. As Willow made her way dejectedly down the hallway to the lounge she felt Buffy's hand on her arm.

"What debriefing were you hoping for?"

"What?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You said you were hoping for a different debriefing. So what was it, Willow?"

"What do you think? I mean... I try and I try and nothing ever changes," Willow whimpered and gulped, her brain starting to shatter from the weeks of desperate pining and stress. "I mean, the clues I've given, the things I've done, the slip-ups I've made... How could you not know? I'm not sure I can take this anymore. What do I have to do? What can I do to make this clearer? Just... just let me go be alone."

Buffy pulled her into an embrace, lifted the redhead's sagging chin, and kissed her hard on the lips.

"Wha... what?"

"Well... you got all depressy and then I kissed you. It's not rocket science."

A Chinese acrobat troupe was performing cartwheels and backflips in Willow's stomach. "But how come you never said anything?"

Buffy shrugged and smiled sweetly. "You never asked."

"I had to ask?"

"Duh. You're the professional lesbian. I'm the girly girl. I get to sit back and wait for the offers you know."

Willow pouted. "I'm sorry, I don't think I like you anymore."

"Fine. I'll take my lovin' elsewhere."

Willow pulled Buffy closer and rested her head on Buffy's shoulder. "So you heard me? You knew all the time?"

"I heard. Even I could figure it out eventually."

"Really?"

"Okay, so Andrew told me yesterday."

And they had many orgasms ever after...


	21. Epilogue

Author Notes: In which Alex Wert guarantees himself a one way ticket to hell. This won't make much sense to anyone who hadn't witnessed the original conversations between myself and Beer Good on SFA. What can I say? The two of us are nuts (but at least I haven't written Cluffy - or that other weird pairing).

* * *

Cardinal Sodano made his way down the long staircases into the vaults of the Musei Vaticani to meet with the Pope. Like many other days, the many works of art and ancient scriptures were being perused by distinguished emissaries from the far reaches of the Catholic Church and scholars representing affiliated prestigious institutions from around the world. 

"Good morning, your holiness," Cardinal Sodano said as he greeted his pontiff.

"Good morning," the Pope replied, looking up from his papyrus, then startled the cardinal by doing a double-take, a grin breaking across his face. "I think I am in love!" he sighed breathlessly. "Who is that over there?"

The Cardinal squinted at the redheaded woman and the skinny blond boy before recognition struck him. "Oh, that is Willow Rosenberg, one of the principal figures of the Watchers Council of England. She and her colleague are examining our library archives. But your holiness, she is a heathen and a deviant and I strongly recommend against it."

"Not her: the associate."

From this moment on, the Pope resolved himself to a mission. A mission to get into blond boy's pants.


End file.
